"Dan, you need to know that last week, Jim Fate asked Special Agent Hedges and me to meet with him. He told us he was getting threats."
Dan's eyes widened. "What kind of threats?" He was a slight, dapper man who always cautiously considered the political ramifications of any action. He could also occasionally be persuaded to take a chance.
"Fate wasn't more specific. He didn't want to talk about it over the phone. He was nervous. He didn't even want us to go to KNWS or to meet at either of our offices. We were going to meet tomorrow at a Starbucks." Allison leaned forward. "I want to be the lead prosecutor assigned to his case."
As a federal prosecutor, Allison dealt with federal crimes, or crimes with an interstate connection. In the case of Jim Fate, that would cover any threats made via the Internet, the phone, or the U. S. mail. And if Fate's killing was the result of terrorism, either foreign or domestic, it would also be considered a federal case.
Dan steepled his fingers, then tapped the two index fingers together. "But Chuck worked the Portland Seven case." The Portland Seven was a group of young American Muslim men who had tried to travel to Afghanistan shortly after 9/11 in order to aid the Taliban. "He's got more experience prosecuting terrorism cases."
"But it could be there's no overseas connection. Maybe there's no link to terrorism at all. Fate ticked off a number of people over the years.
Terrorism or not, it was sure to be a high-profile case. Big cases made big names for prosecutors--which could lead to big bucks if they ever decided to switch sides and become defense attorneys. Even if they stayed put, big cases also led to promotions. And good publicity if they ever decided they wanted to run for district attorney.
But that wasn't why Allison wanted this case. She kept thinking of how Fate had reached out to her, and she hadn't been able to find time on her calendar for him right away. If she had canceled another meeting or suggested they meet in the evening, would he still be alive? The least she could do was find his killer.
"What about the Bratz Bandits trial? Weren't you just beginning that when this whole thing started?"
"This morning I had a voice mail saying the girl's attorney has moved for a mistrial."
Dan raised an eyebrow. "On what grounds?"
"Alleged jury tampering." Allison shook her head. "Condorelli says he has one potential juror ready to swear that she heard two other potential jurors during the evacuation discussing how they should get together on a book deal when the trial was over. Of course, it's all bogus, but that means the trial will be postponed at least until they get a new jury pool." She leaned forward. "Looking for Jim Fate's killer needs to be our top priority. This country was founded on the principle of free speech. And I have a feeling that whatever the reason behind this was, whoever did it wanted to shut Jim up."
Dan said nothing for another minute, just continued tapping his fingers together. Finally he looked up at Allison. "All right. It's your case."
Allison spent the first part of the morning meeting with the task force at the FBI Portland field office. She was glad to see that Nicole had been assigned as case agent. She knew the two of them would be sure to get to the bottom of this case. While everyone around the table had the same goal, they also brought their egos. Personally and professionally, they wanted themselves and their particular branch of the alphabet soup associated with the winning outcome. But Nicole kept everyone in line. Allison enjoyed watching her take center stage as she directed the meeting--and delivered the news that it wasn't sarin.
After the task force met, Allison returned to the federal courthouse and opened a grand jury investigation for Jim Fate's murder. Since the investigation was just at the beginning phase, this would only be a formal opening.
The grand jury was Allison's investigative arm. Even when it wasn't in session, in its name she could issue a search warrant or a subpoena. The grand jurors never knew what she might ask them to investigate--everything from murder for hire to hate crimes against a local mosque to men who trolled the Internet for teenage girls.
"Good afternoon," Allison said to the twenty-three private citizens who made up the grand jury, and received smiles and nods in return. It was one of the two grand juries in Oregon that served at any given time. These grand jurors were in the fourteenth of the eighteen months they would ultimately serve together, so they had had time to become friends with each other--and with Allison. Over the past year she had celebrated birthdays with them and gushed over photos of babies and pets.